So a Wolf, a Monk, and a Whip Lady All End Up in Borginia
by PierceTheVeils
Summary: Franziska has been a prosecutor for the past fourteen years. She doesn't need the help of another. Unfortunately for her, the supervision of a man is her only chance to investigate this case. Set during Dual Destines.
1. Introduction

Chapter One

Franziska Von Karma was incensed. How could this be?

"Don't look at me, sis," Lang said, avoiding her gaze. "I gave you the details on the plane over here."

Well, yes. She supposed that was true. But there was a difference between being told a tradition was practiced and being expected to follow it.

"Now, madam, if you would please change into something a little more… appropriate," the bearded man continued in his nasally voice. "It's not proper for women in Borginia to show their legs as you are."

"You f… sir," Franziska grit her teeth in frustration. "I understand your land may have their own special customs, but I am not here to blend with the culture. I am a prosecutor from Germany, representing Interpol. I am only here to conduct business. I was assured you would at least allow me to do that…?"

"Sis, can ya please just wear the longer skirt?" Lang asked out the edge of his mouth. "It's not like they're asking much."

"Listen to your male, madam. And yes, Borginia will allow you to work cases in our country, irregular as it may be. We only ask that you keep a man at your side at all times, investigation and court."

"Court?" Lang stared at the bearded man, eyes wide. "I'm no prosecutor, Mister!"

Their greeter seemed very surprised to hear this. "Oh, you're not her…?" He shook his head. "That simply won't do. What can I do to fix this awful breach of- oh!"

"What is it now?" Franziska gripped her sleeve, at this point very impatient. "Have you come up with a solution to this unknown issue?"

"Yes, I have. As it happens, madam, you are not the only foreign prosecutor in this land. Mister Sahdmadhi has been here a few weeks, and I'm told he's quite exceptional. He has no open cases at the moment. I will call him right away, and have him briefed on your case."

What was this?! Franziska Von Karma, prodigy prosecutor of fourteen years, was to be _supervised_? How dare this stranger usurp her case! This investigation belonged to Interpol.

"Foolish man! Such an arrangement will not be necessary. I assure you, I am fully qualified to prosecute this case alone."

"Nonsense, nonsense! It is against the very foundation of Borginia to allow such outlandish practices in our country. Perhaps the western nations have grown arrogant to the natural order of things, but Borginia knows the way: women are to be watched over at all times."

It went against the fiber of Franziska's being not to whip this man into oblivion. Show him what a woman was truly capable of. It was only the stern hand on her arm that stopped her.

"Come on, sis. This case is really important to stopping the money laundering conspiracy: we need to keep it in our hands. Just think of it like getting an extra set of help. Another wolf joining us on the hunt. Lang Zi says-"

"I don't care what Lang Zi says!" she snapped, then realized she had no other choice. "Fine."

"Wonderful. I will call the prosecutor now."

So Franziska held her tongue. For now. She would have plenty to tell this new "wolf", should he think he was in any way in charge of this investigation. Heck, she even wore the foolish navy skirt offered to her at the hotel. By a woman in a full veil. Lang had the audacity to suggest she consider herself lucky.

When both were settled down into their adjacent hotel rooms, they met together in the lobby, poring over their case file and waiting for the second prosecutor to show up. Could the fool be any later?

"Hmph. Who is this Sahdmadhi, anyhow?"

"I've heard his name, in passing," Lang replied, organizing the short suspect list by increasing distance from their current location and method of approach: interrogation, stakeout, or simple digging into their past. "He's from the Far East too, Khura'in I think. Laws are weird there. But he's got a good reputation for being able to solve the most difficult of cases in the blink of an eye. He travels all over the world, mostly sticking to Asia and East Europe."

"Is he with Interpol?"

"No, actually. He travels around the world on behalf of his government, trying to catch the people aiding terrorists in his country. And while he's there, he takes other cases in exchange for being allowed to work."

"Anything else?"

"One more thing: Khura'in is known for being a really religious country. I don't know how Khura'inism works, but all their officials and higher ups are members of the clergy, and this guy's no different. Pretty sure he's a monk."

"A prosecuting monk? How ridiculous," Franziska knew she wasn't being fais. "How long has this man been in the job?"

"Of international prosecution?" Lang shrugged. "No idea. Pretty sure the pup's young, though."

"Hmph," Franziska stood from her seat, pacing like a pensive mare. "Well, if this _monk_ doesn't get himself here soon, we're going to start without him."

Franziska had to remind herself she'd wanted to take this case. Agent Lang had told her what Borginia would be like, but she hadn't listened. As long as no foolish fool asked why she wasn't in the home where she belonged, she would bear through it.

The whip wielding prosecutor couldn't say this was a sensation she was that familiar with. Sure, she had come across the odd individual, but never had she truly felt discriminated against for her gender. Father was very insistent that all his children were capable of perfection, and had expected both his daughters to follow in his footsteps. No matter that female prosecutors hadn't become a normal sight until during his long career. He'd recounted the story to her, saying it was "about time some women showed themselves capable of such a noble profession. Men can be so foolish."

Sure, Franziska had heard the stories of countries where women were orphaned for not being a son, denied education, married to grown men as children, and harassed constantly for being in public. Compared to some nations, Borginia was only mild in their foolish offense. Until coming here, Franziska hadn't given the matter of inequality much thought.

Now it ate at her.

"Excuse me, but are you Prosecutor Von Karma?"

Franziska was taken out of her thoughts by a soft, accented voice behind her. When she turned, she was confronted by a tall, feminine looking man with lavender hair. He was so feminine looking, she wondered why _he_ didn't need a supervisor. Some women might have thought he was pretty, but Franziska was too irritated to care.

"I assume you are Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, oh late one?" she tutted, shaking her gloved finger in his direction. "I am Franziska Von Karma, lead prosecutor of this case. This matter is the business of Interpol. Do you understand?"

He didn't respond to her harsh tone, only closing his eyes and shaping his fingers like jackals. "I understand, Prosecutor Von Karma. Truly, this is an unfortunate arrangement. But you accuse me of lateness, and I wish to explain myself. You see, I was reviewing the case at hand when a most unfortunate incident came to light."

"Incident?" Lang was on his feet in a flash, looking ready to growl. "What are you talking about?"

"And you are…?"

"Shi-Long Lang. Interpol agent. What incident are you talking about? What does it have to do with our case?"

"Ah, pleasure to make your acquaintance, both of you." Get to the point, foolish fool. "You see, I had been going through the suspect list in the file cleared to me when I heard on the radio news: your supposed perpetrator at the top of the pyramid has been murdered. I sought us rights to investigate the crime scene, as it may relate to the laundering scheme."

"Murder? Why… am I not surprised?" Lang sighed. "Well, let's get to the crime scene."

"Agreed."

The three of them got into a taxi, with Franziska in the middle. Oh how she longed for the feeling of her worn leather whip in her hands. Unfortunately, she was sitting on it, and couldn't reach it from her position. Stupid skirt.

"...and that's all I know about the supposed murder of one Monty Laundarier, the French businessman you suspect," the monk finished his explanation with a slight flourish. "I apologize. Neither the news report or police were all that specific. But it was surprisingly easy to claim the case as our own. Do you know why that may be?"

"Guy's a brute," Lang laid it down simple. "He probably had half the police force running tail between their legs a week after landing here."

"I don't think you realize what sort of case you've gotten into, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi," Franziska spoke with crossed arms. "More than a trillion euros of ill gotten profits has been laundered through Monty Laundarier's organization, costing some countries billions in lost revenue. The last agent to take this case was found shot in apparent 'suicide'. Every time we get a confirmed hit on their activities, Monty Laundarier and his men skip town. Interpol isn't happy they've been forced to add another liability to such a delicate situation."

"Thank you for your concern, Prosecutor Von Karma, but I can assure you, this is not my first venture to occur on an international scale. I do not intend to be a liability in any sense of the word. Though by the way you talk… dare I say it was a stroke of good karma, for this group's ringleader to die when your team arrived? One can hardly cover their tracks from the Twilight Realm."

Twilight Realm? Did she _want_ to know? "That may be, but we must secure the scene as soon as possible if we want to get anywhere. If his subordinates alter the crime scene before then, we may never find what we need."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Lang kicked the passenger seat in frustration. "How much farther to his hotel?"

Lang's outburst only got the agent a loud, angry string of Borginian from the driver, who seemed to have a limited grasp on English.

The monk turned to Franziska and Lang. "We'll be there in five minutes at most. He asks for your patience."

* * *

Lucky for Franziska's mood, the driver's prediction held true. When the three reached the penthouse their victim had reserved, the police were photographing the body, which had a steak knife sticking out of it.

She cracked her whip for attention. "This crime scene has been placed under the express jurisdiction of Interpol. All officers report to me. I want a clear suspect by midnight!"

Whatever reaction she'd been expecting, none wasn't it. The policemen (they were, indeed, all men) simply stared at her, as if she'd grown a second head. Did they not know English?

But then Lang spoke up. "What are you pups waiting on? Prosecutor Von Karma told you what to do. Buck up!"

Her cheeks went red as each one obediently set off to a corner of the room, investigating blood spatter, the plate from room service, and even going out into the hall to find the maid who called in the murder. Nahyuta Sahdmadhi himself was kneeling over the body, hands folded and lips moving. How dare these fools... It didn't matter. Not when she had work to do.

So she went over to join the prosecutor, huffing as she got down on her knees with him. She waited until he was done praying to open her mouth. "Why would you spare words for this man, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi? Did we not tell you what sort of man he was?"

"Whatever his sins in life, he's lost his chance to be judged here. Now, his soul goes to the Twilight Realm, where the Holy Mother will offer either divine mercy or divine retribution. If what you say is true, then he will spend ten thousand years in the Hell of Eternal Poverty. His lust of wealth destroyed his soul, so it is wealth he must not know. When he is finally reborn, I expect his life to be one of a starving vulture, who achieves nothing for himself and lives only by the neglect of others."

Franziska had no idea how to respond to such a comment. Could anyone truly believe in such foolishness?

"Also, the steak knife is not the true murder weapon. The wound in his abdomen is far too large, and I see no signs of cutting." He nodded in almost curt acknowledgement. "That might be helpful to keep in mind, for your investigation."

She looked at the victim's body. He was right.

Who even was this man?

* * *

 **A/N's: So this is based on another kink meme prompt, asking about what Franziska's been up to in the DD/SoJ era. I figured if she were still an international prosecutor at that time, she might have run into a certain someone. These two remind me of each other so much, and writing them interact with each other is pure gold.**

 **Also, I have other motives for wanting to write from the POV of Franziska. Not gonna tell you what those are, but anyone who reads my work can probably guess anyway.**

 **I have two more chapters of this to upload and a Middle portion of AAI3 case two to work on, so thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you on the far side!**


	2. Investigation

Chapter Two

"I see… so you came to his room to collect the dishes from room service, and found Monty Laundarier dead?"

The frail maid nodded, speaking in a cowed string of broken English. "Yes… I get plate from him. I call out, no answer. Then… door was open."

"The door was open?" Franziska wanted to make sure she had the details correct. "Did anyone see somebody leave the room?"

"I… I see no one, Miss Prosecutor," her veil ruffled slightly as she talked, and she kept her head down at all times. It was despicable. If it were anywhere else, Franziska would demand she be looked in the eye when addressed.

Now she just felt bad for the girl. At least she was willing to answer questions like a good witness. Nahyuta Sahdmadhi was currently speaking to the two men staying directly downstairs, who claimed they heard shouting above them in the same timeframe as the murder. When Franziska had approached them, they just sneered. Whipping them had nearly gotten her arrested. The nerve of some fools!

Meanwhile, Lang was investigating the money laundering side of the case, searching for evidence Monty Laundarier was, indeed, the man they'd believed he was. She'd have to touch base with him after the murder suspect was found.

"So you called out, and no one answered. The door was open. Did you enter the room, Ieima Maedd?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, Miss Prosecutor. In Borginia… maid does not enter guest's room. Not when he is there. It says bad things to enter man's room."

Franziska nodded patiently. "So you did not enter the hotel room… how did you see Monty Laudarier's body?"

"I was curious, with the silence. Should I close the door, I thought. So I leaned and saw the guest, knife inside. I screamed... called our police."

Franziska made a note of the testimony in her Organizer. As of now, she was unsure of its exact relevance to the case. Still, it was quite possible this hotel maid would be testifying in court tomorrow. She shuddered to think of how this country would handle the affair.

"That's all for now, Ieima Maedd. Thank you for your cooperation. You may return to your maidly duties."

"Miss Prosecutor… may I ask?"

"Hm? What is it?"

"Why… why are you in Borgina? Where is your husband?"

"Hmph, Franziska Von Karma is the pure definition of perfection without a husband in her life," Franziska declared proudly, smirk on her face. "As of now, I see no reason to marry. My whole life is prosecution, like it is for my sister and once was for my father. I don't see a need to change anytime soon."

"I'm sixteen. Father is mad I have no husband. He can't find man to marry me. Until I find a husband, I must continue in the hotel with Brother." Her confession was cut short when a man passing by impatiently gestured to her. She bowed deeply to Franziska. "I must go. May the sun forever shine on you and your... perfection, Miss Prosecutor."

The steel haired prosecutor watched as the young maid walked away, listening as the man next to her spoke in their native language. Was he her brother?

When Franziska walked back into the scene of the crime, she noticed something she hadn't before: there were blood stains in the carpet. Near the doorway. "Have these been investigated yet?"

"Yes, woman. The blood is the victim's."

Thank you, Captain Obvious. "Yes, but how did it get over here? It doesn't line up with the rest of the spatter. The victim would have never made it over here alive after stabbing, he wasn't stabbed here, and no blood spilled when he was carried out of here." Franziska bent over to look at the stains in more detail. "There's too much blood to be a mere scrape of nosebleed. What I ask is simple: did this country's police have the competence to investigate the matter or not?"

The officer gave her a long stare, then barked at one of his comrades. After a brief exchange in Borginian, someone with Luminol was assigned to the area in question. "Show the police of this country more respect, woman."

She scoffed. "I'll give you my respect when you earn it. With a suspect."

She walked off before the man could reply, whip tight in her hand. She gripped it like a talisman, searching for other evidence around the room.

She didn't get very far when Nahyuta Sahdmadhi came back from his conversation with the other witnesses. His features remained unreadable as he approached.

"Well? What did those men hear?"

"The two men I conversed with had little to offer our investigation in way of testimony. All they are sure of is hearing male shouts from their room down the stairs, claiming they were seeking the release of sleep. The noise became irritating to them, and they arose to make a complaint when suddenly it stopped. One man believes he heard running. A few minutes later, they heard the young maid scream in terror, and were second and third to discover the dead body."

"I see. Did either guest enter the penthouse suite?"

"They insist they did not. I have no cause to believe they were untrue. With that in mind, the suspect for our case would have to be-"

"Whoever they heard at the scene after the shouting. The killer must have passed the witness' floor in the few minutes before Ieima Maedd made her way to the room, as she didn't testify to seeing anyone."

"Hm…" The monk considered her assessment with his eyes closed. "I find that odd. Surely the killer would have marked themselves from the stabbing? The victim's blood would paint their sin for all to see. But were that true, why has nobody come forward to say as much? The murderer had no time for cleansing."

Curiouser and curiouser. "Hmph. Go to the front desk and see if we can obtain a guest log or security video from the hotel. Find out if anyone saw anything."

"Yes, Prosecutor Von Karma." Before he could leave, Agent Lang came bursting in, a look of pure rage on his face.

"What is it, Agent Lang?"

"The money laundering scheme. I can't find anything here connecting Laundarier to it."

"What?! You mean we have _no evidence_ for our case? Is that not the whole reason you insisted we come here, Agent Lang? Is that not the whole reason I'm tolerating this country's utterly pig headed and impractical policies towards women? Because this man was most likely our target organization's leader and he had vital evidence of their misdeeds with him in this country?"

"Look Sis, I know what I said, but…" Lang flinched. "I don't think Laundarier was here on business. He got killed on a pleasure visit. Either he didn't bring anything sensitive with him, or someone beat us to the good stuff."

Franziska let her whip fly, striking Lang in the opening of his shirt. He flinched, but made no attempt to block her. Around them, the police officers gasped.

She only struck once. Surely he already felt bad enough. "What makes you think he had no business here?"

"All I can find evidence of him doing is visiting illegal brothels and inviting prostitutes up to his room. Apparently, one of them recalled him getting a call asking why he wasn't in Germany for something important. He said… he was trying to shake Interpol off the scent."

"Well, this devil's scheme was certainly effective, if the two of you are here." Nahyuta Sahdmadhi reminded Franziska of his presence, only stoking the flames of her anger. "Still, that doesn't render your trip without purpose. The call itself leads the conclusion he's a criminal interfering with Interpol."

"What a prostitute remembers from a few days ago isn't hard evidence."

"No, but if the call occurred, a record ought to be on his phone. If you know who he called, you have another suspect in the investigation."

Why didn't Franziska think of that? Surely it would have occurred to her after a moment, but in the present situation, she'd been too angry to think rationally. That couldn't become a regular thing. It would only harm her investigation. "You. Bring me Monty Laundarier's cell phone."

When the officer she pointed to didn't move, Lang obliged. The phone had been next to the victim's body when he was found, but it had been sealed up in evidence soon after the police arrived. It was the latest model, one of those so called "smartphones" that seemed to be taking the world by storm. Personally, Franziska didn't see the difference between them and her computer. She preferred an actual keyboard, thank you very much.

Still, when she checked it… it had been wiped completely blank. Only one message remained, sent fifteen minutes after the murder:

 _Contact Unknown: Thanks for playing your part, Monty. Too bad we won't get an encore. What can I say? We got tired of you spending our clientele's money. You're done here_.

"So in addition to a launderer, this man was an embezzler?" The monk (who'd been reading over her shoulder) shook his head. "The sin of greed is, indeed, boundless."

"Get your delusional, overzealously foolish foolery away from me," Franziska growled. "Did I not tell you this was the business of Interpol's, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi?"

"That is so. But please remember, Prosecutor Von Karma, the case of this man's murder was placed under my name. Since he appears to have been slain for his connection to your organization, it is within my interests to understand the nature of how the cases entwine. How can I send his soul to hell without such knowledge?"

 _What do either one of those things have to do with each other? Never mind, I don't care._ "You're only here because this country is too backwards to recognize me as the superior prosecutor. If you think you can overtake the perfection of Von Karma simply by being a man, you're more of a fool than I thought." She whipped the monk, who didn't seem to care all that much.

"This case is mine, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi. Know your place."

"..." He sighed at her, which was somehow more irritating than the all the police of this nation combined. Shaking his head, he conceded to her. "Your experience is known across the world, Prosecutor Von Karma. When I was studying within the confines of Khura'in, I was told the legend of the prodigy prosecutor. Do not presume I place my humble skills above your own. I speak solely to the facts as they stand in this nation. This humble servant asks that we may return to the case… by your lead, of course."

Franziska was taken aback. Was he sucking up to her? How was she supposed to approach this guy?

And then there was the matter of the bystanders. "Did he really just roll over for that woman?"

"Well, you know what they say about Khura'in. Those (insert wingdings here) are ruled by witch queens. The men there aren't real men. Just puppets controlled by black magic."

The crack of her whip was loud enough to break them out of their conversation. "I believe you fools have an investigation to run? Or are you willing to let a woman and a puppet take over your jobs and arrest the suspect without your foolish assistance?"

"Cool it, Sis. They can sabotage us, you know."

But they didn't. Just grumbled like the little boys they were. Franziska concluded the murderer was the same person who wiped Monty Laundarier's phone and, following the string of sources Lang had found the first prostitute with, realized the victim had invited a woman over the night of the murder. Unfortunately, the man at the front desk hadn't seen any woman leaving, so Franziska couldn't yet declare her a suspect in the murder. So they were off to a brothel to find out.

This time, Lang stayed behind and continued monitoring the crime scene, as well as searching for the true murder weapon. It was better this way.

"Prosecutor Von Karma?"

"Yes, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi?"

"If I may, why did you join with Interpol? Why not simply stay in Germany?"

"Hmph. Why do you travel beyond Khura'in? Because there is crime beyond my nation's borders that effects my countrymen. I first worked alongside Interpol by recommendation from a German judge. My first mission? Take out the smuggling ring that took fractions of the Nibelung Treasure from its rightful place in Mainz. I chased him all the way to an embassy in America, watching my fellow agents get murdered along the way. But when I chopped the head of the beast, and severed its struggling limbs... It was more satisfying than all my previous cases combined. It was like I'd solved a thousand crimes in a month."

"I see. Thank you, for explaining your motivations to me. I've heard much about you, but never that."

"You're welcome." Now Franziska felt obligated to ask a question of her own. "What was it those fools said about witch queens?"

He sighed, shaking his head at the recent memory. "In Khura'in, the crown is inherited by the woman of the family who is blessed with and trained in spirit channeling, a sacred art foreigners have oft labeled as magical. Outside of the realm, our rulers are colloquially referred to as 'witch queens', a term intended for disrespect."

A world where mediums ruled the country? Franziska knew a certain girl who'd enjoy the idea. "Who is your queen now?"

His voice tightened, almost imperceptibly so. "Her Eminence Queen Ga'ran Sigatar Khura'in. She has been reigning monarch for twenty-two years, and my generous patron in regards to foreign missions. It is she who commands our people in all affairs, authority second only to the Holy Mother herself." He seemed to consider his next words very carefully. "I come from a land where authority under a woman is the natural state of affairs. Please understand I never meant to challenge your authority, nor do I inherently resent it. It is a shame, others would disrespect you so."

Franziska nodded her acknowledgement. But before she could say anything else, they had arrived at their destination. She took one look at the converted storehouse and gagged.

This was disgusting.

Franziska had been exposed to the prostitution industry in the past. Heck, her last Interpol case involved bringing down a human trafficking ring in central Europe. Even so, the act of selling yourself for money revolted her beyond reason. Nahyuta Sahdmadhi didn't look any more comfortable than she did.

"Good evening, sir. What can my girls do for a fine young man such as yourself?"

They were approached by a seedy man with a thick mustache and bristly beard. He appeared to be running the place, and didn't even spare her a glance.

So she cleared her throat, getting his attention. "Franziska Von Karma of Interpol. We're here to ask your… employees a few questions."

His eyes became buglike, only growing wider as she pulled a badge out from her chest pocket. "Ah. Police. How lovely." He immediately turned back to the man with her. "Please sir, we cause no harm. Surely Interpol doesn't give a (wingding) about some small time-"

"Your empire of sin remains assured, unholy merchant. I accompany Prosecutor Von Karma on a case unrelated to your business practices. If you cooperate, we will spare you worldly judgement."

He gave Franziska a look. One that said "one of those, eh?" She just nodded, then held out a picture taken by the lobby security camera.

"This woman was seen entering a hotel earlier tonight. We have reason to believe she visited a certain Monty Laundarier. Do you know the man?"

"Monty, hm? Yes, he comes by often. Been here two weeks, and already my girls all know him."

"His soul departed this world, soon after this picture was taken." Nahyuta Sahdmadhi took the picture from her. "Is the woman depicted a member of your putrid organization?"

"Putrid's a… strong word, wouldn't you say?" Next look: Is this guy for real?

This time, Franziska gave no acknowledgement of her colleague's antics. "Hmph. Answer the question. Or we might just decide you're not cooperating well enough."

"Very well, very well! No need to get your loins in a pretzel." _What is this foolish fool even-_ "Yes, Shagat Altamen is one of my girls. Monty liked her: it was his third night in a row with Shagat." He was sweating buckets. "You don't really think my girl would hurt a customer, yes? She's just a small woman. No way she could stab a man so brutally. A woman's constitution is far too weak for-"

Whip! Got him right in the mouth.

"What in the heavens?" He was spitting, trying to wipe his tongue off with his hand. "What was-"

"You rat-brained, pig-headed, foolishly foolish sack of a fool. You think women are incapable of violence? I have the constitution to leave you-"

"Prosecutor Von Karma, please. This man's unenlightened soul is to be pitied, not hated. His disregard of half humanity's life will render him unable to reach the state of a human for a thousand years, in which time he will take the form of various crops, to be picked apart and eaten by none other than a woman. If he ever achieves this form once more, he will be reborn as a woman in the same condition he places them today, to live a frustrating, restricted life where he must choose to amend his ways or continue in an endless cycle."

"Why yell at me, crazy man? Control your woman!"

He shook his head, shaping his fingers for what Franziska could only assume was some sort of prayer. "I do nothing because she is not my woman, but my superior. Prosecutor Von Karma, are we finished with this putrid man?"

"One more thing." The monks speeches were easier to follow the second time around. And now that Franziska did… they were even more foolish than she initially suspected. Which was a shame: Nahyuta Sahdmadhi didn't seem to be a foolish man otherwise. Religion did strange things to people. "This woman. Miss Shagat Altamen. Where is she?"

"I don't think you need to-" Whip! "Fine! She… should be in the house with the other girls. I didn't give her any other jobs tonight."

"Good," Franziska brandished her whip, though she refrained from letting it loose a third time. "Do not cross my path again, oh foolish fool."

"Of course, Miss Von Karma! Enjoy the rest of your stay in humble Borginia." And with that, the sleazy man was gone. Ran away into the night.

The prosecutor hummed in pleasure. "That was unspeakably satisfying."

Next to her, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi nodded. "I believe he will think twice before insulting another woman. You have led him a step closer to the true way, Prosecutor Von Karma."

"Hmph. One slightly less foolish fool in this country isn't worth acknowledging. Let's find this prostitute."

"Very well."

Once they got inside through the back entrance (much to the protest of a few resting women), their target was of no difficulty to track down. She was found with her hair done up insanely high and a painted smile on her face, tiredly flirting with a boy who couldn't possibly be old enough to enter a brothel.

That quickly ended when she saw Franziska's colleague, slinking up to him with a practiced ease. Franziska noticed, with slight distaste, that woman was naturally taller than her. "My, my, my. We're not from Borginia, now are we?"

"No. Neither myself nor my colleague."

"Well, welcome. It must be scary, being so far from home," she latched onto the monk's arm, pressing her curvaceous body against his side. He stiffened. "I can keep you company. It gets awful cold this time of year…"

"Miss Altamen, enough. We haven't come here to request your unholy services. Remove yourself."

She snorted, detaching herself. "Cheap foreigners. You know, you're plenty handsome. Shagat would do it for free if money's your concern..."

"Miss Shagat Altamen, I am Franziska Von Karma," another flash of the badge. "Interpol has a few questions for you."

"Hm?" She noticed Franziska for the first time. "What do the international police want with Shagat? My goods aren't harmful. Though I might have served an agent or two."

"You remember Monty Laundarier, the businessman from France?"

She giggled. "Monty is such a generous man. Treats Shagat to a beautiful hotel bed every night he calls on her. Monty is good to Shagat, so Shagat returns the favor."

"Did you or did you not visit him earlier tonight?"

"I visited. He did not open for Shagat." She wasn't looking at them when she spoke, instead fiddling with… an absurdly large red hairpin. "Shagat was so embarrassed, she walked out the back, where the servants go."

"I find that hard to believe, Miss Shagat Altamen," Franziska narrowed her eyes, recalling the maid's testimony. There was something odd about that woman's hairpin. The red color on it, it almost looked like-

Her hand reached out before she knew what she was doing. But Franziska trusted her instincts. "What is this?"

"Ah!" The pin came out surprisingly easily, heavy as it was. All around the prostitute, wavy black hair flew out. It was too dark to see if blood had gotten into it. "What have you done?"

"Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, get Agent Lang on the phone. I think we've found the true murder weapon."

"You really think-"

"Miss Shagat Altamen? You're under arrest for the murder of Monty Laundarier."

"Noooooooo!"

* * *

 **A/N's: Yay, investigation! Far more streamlined than anything I write for AAI3 (or even for Rebirth), but it all comes together in court, which is... next chapter!**

 **In case you can't tell, I have everything written out already. I'm just polishing it up for posting. Hope everyone is enjoying so far, and don't be shy about reviewing!**


	3. Trial

Chapter Three

If Franziska had been displeased with her treatment during the investigation, it was nothing compared to their session in court.

Yes, _their_ session. Despite Franziska being the obvious leader of the investigation, the local Chief Prosecutor assigned the bench to Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, thanks to the name on some paper. He'd asked her to stand beside him, but it wasn't the same.

Franziska Von Karma did not rely on others. She did not depend on a stranger's benevolence (or admiration, or whatever this was) just to _prosecute her own case._ Nor did she trust some monk from an isolated mountain nation in the Far East to know how to conduct a proper interrogation. Not that she trusted the police of this country to do better.

"Might wanna watch out for the defense attorney on this one, Sis." Lang was hunched over a laptop, no doubt tracking down their next lead in the laundering scheme. Best they could tell, leadership had switched hands from Monty Laundarier to… someone else. Interpol had men working on tracing the cellphone message, but Franziska knew it was a waste of time. Anyone who could make her _(her!)_ look like a fool wasn't someone to be trifled with.

Still, Lang's comment caught her off guard. "Hm? What about him?"

"Iriadam Değil is known for taking only the most profitable of cases, but he's only lost twice. Also… he doesn't only work for money, if you know what I'm saying. At least," he turned away to face her for a second. "Those are the rumors."

"So he's a regular greedy fool who thinks he can raise false charges and face nothing but profit? I've met those attorneys before. They need naught but a good whipping to realize my case isn't worth their money."

"About that. Sis... it's like Lang Zi says: some battles are better fought with words. Maybe it's best if I held onto your whip for a while."

"What?!" How could he even suggest such a thing?

"Sis, please. We already have everything our investigation is going to get out of this place. We didn't come here to find out who killed Laundarier, we came to arrest the leader of his former organization. Whoever that guy is, he's not going to be brought to justice if you go to jail for assault, or get held in contempt of court for some trumped up insubordination charge.

"I don't agree with how Borginia treated you, but you just have to put up with it. One more day."

She knew Lang was right. One more day, and Franziska Von Karma would return to civilization, where women were respected as human beings and her superiority wasn't called into question by social norms.

But… what about the women here, who never got to return to civilization? Who'd never even seen it to begin with? That witness, Ieima Maedd. She would go her whole life, never seeing herself as an equal to her brother. She would never have a life of her own. All she would have is a memory. She even pitied the defendant, to an extent.

It wasn't right.

And yet, the the strong Franziska Von Karma yielded. Her whip was with Lang. She felt smaller, without it.

"Prosecutor Von Karma, are you ready?"

It was Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, fresh from the interrogation room. For all the frustration and anger she felt, she had none left for him. He had no role in this insanity.

He briefed her, as they walked to the courtroom. Their main points of attack were thus: Shagat Altamen had been called to service the victim the night of the crime and was seen going up to his room. Her DNA was found in the suite, proving she went inside. Finally, the blood covered headpin matched the stab wound in Laundarier's body, meaning she'd smuggled the true murder weapon out of the scene. That explained the bloodstain she'd found near the doorway. There was no evidence of a third party found in the room, and no witness testified to having entered the room that night.

All in all, it didn't matter that no one had seen the suspect leave the crime scene. Their case was foolproof.

"Court is now in session for the trial of Shagat Altamen! For the purpose of the foreigners present, this trial will be conducted in both Borginian and English. Why English is the lingua franca of a German, a Zheng Faian, and a Khura'inese in the murder of a French businessman, I have no idea.

"(Same stuff, but in wingding)"

"The prosecution is prepared, Mr. Chairman." The monk spoke for both of them, then dissolved into what could only be a Khura'inese prayer while an interpreter stood by, looking very confused. He couldn't have prayed for a guilty verdict before trial started?

"Ze defense is… impatient to begin. I hope zese for'gners know how to behave in a courtroom. I don't want to waste time teaching zem… procedure." His sentence in Borginian was far longer, and whatever he said made her bench partner bristle.

"Such unenlightened speech from an unenlightened man… you pitful, lost soul. You must be quite the hypocrite, to defend who you do and call Prosecutor Von Karma a-"

"Enough!" The judge banged his gavel, short silver beard swaying with the motion. "Would the prosecution please deliver the opening statement?"

"Certainly." When on earth had he put all their Court Record documents on a scroll? And why waste the time doing so? "The crime in question occurred last night at approximately nine pm. Police arrived at the scene a mere fifteen minutes later, and Interpol joined the investigation before the hour was out.

"The victim? One Monty Laundarier, a French businessman on vacation. He was found stabbed to death in his penthouse suite, a steak knife sticking out of his body as a diversion. That same night, he had requested the services of a certain prostitute, the accused."

"Stop just a minute there," the judge ordered, waiting for the interpreter to finish. "The defendant is a whore?"

"Yes, Mr. Chairman. She was arrested from her place of employment and is to stand trial supervised by her employer, Horan Mongor."

"Why… that's a crime in and of itself!"

"But Mr. Chairman, Miss Altamen is not being charged with prostitution today. She is facing murder charges." The defense was quick to remind the court.

"And what is the case against the defendant?

Franziska spoke up. "She was the last person to see the victim before the murder, and the only one to leave DNA in the room. Not to mention, the murder weapon was found on her person. The prosecution would like to submit the autopsy and murder weapon to the court."

"What is zis? A woman on ze prosecutor's bench?" Mr. Iriadam Değil feigned a look of shock. "Such strange for'gners. Don't understand ze natural order of zings, yes?"

"Excuse me, Mr. Iriadam Děgil, I don't believe my gender has anything to do with this trial. If you have a problem with being beaten in court by a woman, I suggest you abandon the case now."

The gallery gasped at her response, which was odd. She hadn't even insulted the foolish fool, and they acted as though she'd whipped him.

The judge looked uncomfortable, but quickly moved the case along. Agent Lang was the first to testify, though all he did was summarize the investigation. The insipid attorney tried to call attention to the fact no one had seen the defendant leave, but Franziska quickly struck him down.

Next came the testimony of Ieima Maedd, who stood on the stand next to her brother. He spoke for her. "This is my younger sister, Ieima Maedd. She was assisting at my family's hotel as a maid when she saw the victim's dead body."

"Oh you poor girl! And is that what your sister intends to testify about?"

"Why is her brother on the stand as well?" Franziska turned to the monk beside her. "He witnessed nothing."

"In Borginia, a female witness may not stand on her own. If she does, her testimony is considered less credible. I don't know why."

"Hmph. Will she at least speak her own testimony?"

"I believe so." He sighed. "The Holy Mother weeps for the imprisonment of her foreign daughters."

Franziska was about to ask what he meant when the testimony began. Since the maid spoke better Borginian, she delivered that testimony first, relying on an interpreter to convert it to English.

"I walked up to the penthouse to collect Mr. Laundarier's dishes from room service. I saw no one on my way there.

"When I got there, the door was open. I knew it would be rude to peek in!

"So I stood behind the open door and knocked. The guest did not respond to me.

"Growing curious, I peeked into the room. And there was his body, dead in the doorway!

"I screamed and called the police right away. I'm told this was only five minutes after the murder."

Well, that was far more coherent than when the witness tried to speak in English. Franziska wished they could have had an interpreter when the investigation was going on.

"Why, you poor child! To think, you were only helping your brother and had to face such a terrible scene. Defense, assure me you'll be delicate with this witness."

"Certainly, Mr. Chairman. If it pleases ze court, I'd like to begin my cross-examination."

It didn't take long for Mr. Iriadam Děgil to press her first statement. But instead of shouting the typical "Hold it!", he simply asked her to wait.

"This is supposedly happening right after the murder, correct?"

"Yes, defense. This was made clear in the witness's testimony."

"What is this time of the murder based on?"

"Several things. The victim called for room service an hour before the murder, the last anyone would hear from him. Ten minutes before, the accused was witnessed going up to the penthouse suite, and even stated her intentions to the man at the front desk."

"Could the victim have been dead before my client went up to the room?"

Her co-counsel shook his head. "No. For if the victim had been in the same state this witness found him at that time, the accused would not have remained silent."

"Objection!"

"Hm?"

"My client is a prostitute. As Mr. Chairman pointed out at ze beginning of ze trial, zat is a crime in and of itself. It's only natural she wouldn't want to alert the police!"

"But failure to report such a major crime is also a criminal act. Mr. Děgil, you say you're trying to get your client off the hook for a crime, but accusing her of others."

"But failure to report is a small fine, Mr. Chairman. Surely zat is a small price to pay to escape life in prison."

"Gah!"

"Objection!" Franziska stepped in, saving her "superior's" argument. "Such an assumption is not our only basis for the timeline of this crime."

"And what else do you have, woman?"

"Two men occupy the room below the victim. Both testified to hearing a man shouting above just before Miss Ieima Maedd approached the scene. And in case you haven't noticed, both the witness and the defendant are female. It could only have been the victim." Franziska tsked, leaning over the bench with a trained smirk. "If you'd like us to bring them out now, I wouldn't object."

"...Not yet. I have one more question for ze witness." He went to the last statement of her testimony. "A minute, please!" He asked her something in Borginian.

Her reply was quickly interpreted. "No, no one watched the scene when I went to call the police. Though I did see the two men from downstairs approach behind me when I came back."

She heard a gasp from next to her. "Prosecutor Sahdmadhi? What is it?"

"I think I may know how the accused escaped the scene."

"Oh! How did she do it?"

"If the witnesses downstairs indeed heard the moment of the murder, the accused would not have time to leave the room before Miss Maedd saw the scene. It stands to reason she was still in the room."

"Hold it! If my client were still in the suite, why didn't the witness see her?"

"Weren't you listening, Mr. Iriadam Děgil?" Franziska wagged her finger. "Miss Ieima Maedd did not enter the victim's room. She would have only seen part of the crime scene. Continue, Mr. Nahyuta Sahdmadhi."

"I thank you. The accused heard the witness scream and run off. She must have known the police would come. So she took the chance to escape while the scene was unguarded, perhaps through a back door. No one saw her leave at the time we believed because she simply left later on."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Franziska smiled. For the first time since entering the courthouse, she felt like her normal self. No one else seemed to understand the rush she felt when she prosecuted a case.

But it looks like this man might.

The defense had no more questions for the maid. He looked very frustrated with himself, which was good. Franziska had a genuine smile on her face when she called the next two witnesses to the stand. They were brothers, William and Wilheim Etnez, native Borginians who'd been staying in the suite below the victim. She was perfectly fine letting Nahyuta Sahdmadhi handle their unpleasantness.

Once again, the useless attorney had nothing worthwhile to object to. He complained on and on that neither witness had heard evidence of Shagat Altamen being in the room, but couldn't offer up evidence of another suspect, nor could he conclusively prove she hadn't been there. Desperate, he called his own client up to the stand, alongside her pimp.

"This is Shagat Altamen, a poor, disadvantaged girl with no husband and no options. Due to her… unfortunate occupation, it's all too easy for prosecutors to accuse her of crimes."

"Objection! The defendant's occupation has nothing to do with her charge of murder. The evidence speaks for itself."

"Er… of course. And what would have the defendant testify about, Mr. Děgil?"

"I want Miss Altamen to tell ze court about her evening with ze victim. And zer relationship."

The man next to the defendant leaned over, whispering in her ear. She froze, then nodded. Franziska wished she knew what they were discussing. If she were in Germany, or even America, this would be declared collusion.

Her testimony was in Borginian as well, even though both prosecutors heard her speak English yesterday. They waited until she was finished speaking for the interpreter to translate.

"I met the businessman only twice before. He paid well, but I know nothing else of him.

"Last night, Mr. Mongor received a call, requesting I come to him. I walked up to his room from the front entrance.

"But he did not open, for Shagat. I waited and waited, but nothing.

"Embarrassed, I left out the back. I had no reason to kill this man."

"...This is a waste of time," Franziska declared. "Mr. Chairman, this reveals nothing we don't already know. Anything else she might claim is a lie."

"Objection! Ze defendant has an important point. One ze prosecution wants you to ignore."

"Oh? And what is that, defense?"

He laughed. "Ze motive, of course. You (wingding) for'gners think people kill for no reason? Miss Altamen lives in a very vulnerable position. Killing a client would only draw attention to herself and her… lifestyle."

"He's not wrong, I'm afraid," Nahyuta Sahdmadhi acknowledged, whispering to her. "I tried to discern her motive during the interrogation, but I found nothing."

"Hmph. You think such a small detail matters in the grand scheme of things?" Franziska ignored her co-counsel's comment. "The defendant was seen approaching the room. She met the defendant. Witnesses heard her kill him. A maid saw the body right after. The defendant herself admits her escape route, and was found with the murder weapon in her _hair_. What about a motive could change any aspect of this crime?"

"You'll see, little for'gner. Mr. Chairman? I'd like to begin ze cross-examination."

The judge looked doubtful, but allowed the defense to proceed. Franziska wished she knew what he was thinking. This man wasn't as affable as the judges she'd met other places, but she had yet to see if he was as fair. So far, it was looking good.

The attorney stopped his client on the first statement of her testimony. The interpreter translated his question to say: "You met the victim twice before the incident. Were you doing your job at those times?"

"Yes."

"Were you in the victim's room either one of those times?"

"Shagat was there both times."

"I see." He smiled. "Mr. Chairman, is it possible those previous visits are responsible for the DNA found at the scene of the crime?"

"Objection!" Franziska called out. "A previous witness has already testified to being vigilant in her care of that suite. It's a maid's duty to clean the guest's rooms every day."

"Objection! A maid could have missed areas with Miss Altamen's DNA. Some would still linger after her visit."

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi shook his head. "You are correct, but it is useless. The police recovered her sweat, hair, and bodily fluids in abundance on the body itself. Unless this man sought to keep himself as unclean as his soul, the evidence could not be from a previous visit."

"Not only that, but for a maid to miss the sheer amount of staining in the room left by both parties, she would prove herself unworthy of the job. You have no evidence proving Miss Ieima Maedd was negligent."

"I… would like to continue."

Next, the defense saw fit to question the prostitute's second statement. "Miss Altamen, did you go straight to the victim's room after you were seen in the hotel lobby?"

"Well, I talked to a man in an elevator, but he had no money. I was there in a few minutes."

"Defense, what do you seek to gain from this line of questioning?"

"If my client did not go to ze victim right away, he could have been dead upon arrival. Remember: your precious witnesses never heard a female voice. Only a male's. We assumed it was ze victim, but tell me… what if it was not?"

"..."

"..."

"...Give me your necklace." This foolish buffoon.

"Hm? What sort of prayer do you perform with-"

"Give it to me." Claiming such things with no evidence. Thinking he could get away with it under _her..._

The monk complied, much to Franziska's gratitude. She held those beads like she was used to holding a whip. "Mister Chairman, Interpol is a very busy organization. I believed this case would be related to my investigation, but alas. This foolish man has done nothing but waste our time. Waste Interpol's time."

She adjusted her hands to give the appearance of a slingshot. "Enough spewing foolishness!"

She let the beads go.

"Mmph!" In a perfect shot, the beads coiled around the victim's head, digging into his mouth like a gag. "Er!"

"This trial is over. Mister Iriadam Dĕgil has failed to find fault in the prosecution's perfect case. I gave a fool a chance to be less foolish, and he only used it foolishly. Mister Chairman, your verdict?"

The gallery was whispering about her trick to silence the defense, but the judge himself looked unfazed. "However unorthodox their methods, I agree with the prosecution. The court finds the defendant, Shagat Altamen…

"Guilty."

As the judge repeated his sentence in Borginian, Franziska's attention was drawn to the defendant. She looked… disappointed, sure, but not devastated. She just gave her pimp a dirty look, watched her attorney struggle, and got led away by the police. Quietly.

Was her life so horrible considered prison a better option? Had she chosen her line of work, or was she like the victims Franziska once rescued, and forced to give others her body? The woman was certainly a killer, but Franziska didn't know why. She didn't know what drove Shagat Altamen to those actions. She couldn't call her case perfect if she didn't discover the whole truth.

Franziska would be out of the country before Shagat Altamen was sentenced, but she'd ask Nahyuta Sahdmadhi to give her some leniency. After all, they found no evidence the murder was premeditated. Without a motive, second degree murder was the worst charge she would get. If she also confessed to prostitution, a few years most would be added. She'd be an old woman by the time she was released.

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi and Agent Lang approached her together, meeting at the steps of the court entrance. She noticed he had his necklace back on. "Did you get it back from the foolish defense attorney?"

He shook his head. "I watched as the putrid man threw it into the trash. It seemed he learned nothing of enlightenment from today's trial."

Lang just stared. "So where'd you get that one? Do you keep infinite spares in your pocket or something?"

"Not infinite, no," he offers Franziska a slight smile, "which is why I ask you to restrain your temper some, should we stand together again. There are souls in this world that are far less enlightened than even he. But perhaps…"

"Hm?"

"You could show me what you did, with my rosary. For the next time I need to silence someone who must let go and move on."

Franziska laughed. He looked so earnest, like an overgrown puppy. It reminded her of that old thing her niece loved to play with. You'd never guess Phoenix's true age by the way he behaved. "I could, yes. But Agent Lang and I leave…"

"Tomorrow."

Franziska gave him a patronizing grin. "Do you really think you can learn my skills in such a short time?"

That only made the monk smile wider. "I can at least put forth the effort. It isn't every day one has the privilege of working with the legendary Prosecutor Von Karma."

After a display like that, Franziska could hardly turn him down. The three of them spent the whole evening together, throwing beads while Lang hunched over his laptop trying to do work. After an hour, Franziska was convinced the monk had picked it up (he even managed to catch Agent Lang!) and they sat down to track Interpol's next lead in the money laundering scheme.

"Have the two of you considered returning to Germany?"

"Why would we do that?" Lang asked, looking over his shoulder.

"I just remembered what you said, during the investigation. Mr. Laundarier was overheard on the phone, being questioned as to why he wasn't in Germany. If this call were related to your case, it would mean something important occurred there. It could still be happening now."

"That was a few days ago, pup."

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi just shrugged. "If Interpol had a more recent lead, you would have followed it already. Didn't you say you were used to chasing your target's trail?"

Agent Lang bristled at the implications, but Franziska ignored it. "It was surprisingly nice working with you, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi. You made this foolish country bearable, and together, we solved a murder. Do you think we'll meet again, someday?"

"If the Holy Mother wills it, perhaps we will. I work at the will of Her Eminence, you at the will of Interpol. It would both please and surprise me if our paths intersect again." He bowed. "But regardless, you are always welcome in Khura'in. As I said, your deeds are honored there."

"Hm. My homeland of Germany recognizes competent people, whatever their origin. I imagine you would be received well, should you ever visit."

"Zheng Fa has an agreement with Khura'in. I checked. You can arrest rebels from there whenever, and the government won't protect them." Lang looked over at the prosecutors. "If you haven't already checked there, try it."

"Thank you, Agent Lang. Prosecutor Von Karma. May you fight crime with the strength of Lady Kee'ra, and may the Holy Mother watch over you in your exploits."

And with that absurd parting, he left. Franziska was no closer to understanding his religion than when they first met. Still, it reminded her of something.

Her little brother, Miles Edgeworth. He was the Chief Prosecutor of that sorry city in America now. She remembered he once confessed his intentions of draining the swamp collecting in his Prosecutor's Office. She imagined that meant a multitude of pink slips. Good riddance, she thought.

Still, he would need prosecutors to replace those fools. He might even have to bring them in from outside the city limits.

And Franziska might need to help him.

* * *

 **A/N's: There you go, people. The real story of how Nahyuta ended up in Japanifornia. Don't bother trying to tell me this isn't what happened. I won't listen.**

 **But seriously. This is my new favorite BroTP. I need to see them interacting after the conclusion of SoJ. Need it like a burning. Please, fellow fanfic writers! Help me! Must I write all my headcanons myself?**

 **Ah well. Franziska was fun to write in the shoes of. I really like her. I like Nahyuta too, but I can't imagine writing from his POV. It'd probably be a hot mess.**

 **So this is the official end of the story, but I kinda wanna explain why Shagat did what she did. Who's up for an epilogue? Well, the OP for this prompt on the kink meme is, so it's gonna get written. Will probably be up in a few days.**

 **Glad my reviewers are enjoying the story, don't me shy to tell me your thoughts on this part, and I'll see you on the far side!**


	4. Epilogue

Epilogue

Shagat hadn't been expecting visitors. She wasn't close to the other girls, and Mr. Mongor only liked her for the money. Her clients either didn't remember her name or weren't naive enough to care what it was. Her family was gone, having left this world without her years before.

When she killed Monty Laundarier, she'd had nothing left to lose. No more awful clients or unfair bosses or sleepless nights for her. Now that she was in prison, she was freer than she'd ever been.

Not that she'd tell that prosecutor, of course. She knew he didn't really care why she did it. It just looked better on his record if there were no loose ends. As if she was ever going to appeal her case. She wasn't that stupid.

But what could she say? He wore her down. Watching her with those eyes, so deep and green. They were penetrating. It felt like he could see her soul, and not just the filth concealing it.

After a few hours, she broke down. It's not like it mattered anyway. No one listens to women in Borginia. At least, not women like her.

"Mr. Mongor was asked to kill him. For money."

He wrote something down, strange symbols she couldn't read. "How much?"

"I don't know. He did not reveal it to Shagat."

"Do you know who asked him?"

"No." Well, she didn't know any names. But she had seen them. Both of them. As she was leaving the scene of the crime.

"If this person asked your… boss to kill the victim, why did you carry out the job?"

"I was the one with the opportunity. I don't do it, Mr. Mongor disowns Shagat. I wouldn't go back to begging." That, and she hated the man. He was a selfish lover, always rough with her. Not that she was allowed to complain, of course. "He promised me some money, as well. But that was a lie. He gave it to the lawyer instead."

"So this was premeditated murder. However, you were charged with murder in the second degree." He shook his head, earrings clacking like the fall of a gavel. "You may have escaped earthly punishment, but your soul will not be so lucky. If-"

"I don't care." she interrupted. "Shagat never had a chance at heaven. This, I have known."

He looked up at her, surprised at first. But hen, his features softened. She hadn't lied before: he really was a beautiful man. "Don't say that, Miss Altamen. In the scriptures of Khura'inism, the Holy Mother found her greatest ally in the form of a former assassin, a man paid to end the lives of strangers. He was sent to kill her, but she stopped him with nothing but words. Showed him that violence was the deepest blemish on the world, and that it should be stopped. He was her companion for twenty years until they died on the same day, their spirits entwined towards the heavens.

"Even the filthiest of souls can be cleansed, if they stand behind the Founder. She accepts all who come to her, embracing even the daughters of foreigners." He laid a hand on her own, through the bars. "Anyone can find her if they only open their eyes."

She pursed her lips, but words came out regardless. "...The witnesses."

"Hm?"

"The brothers, below Mr. Laundarier. They saw me leaving. I... was covered in blood."

"You're saying they lied in their testimony?"

"Not just that… Shagat has seen them before. With Mr. Mongor. I think... they're the ones who wanted your victim dead."

"They instigated the murder? Do you have evidence of this?"

"...I'm sorry. I know my word means nothing."

"That isn't true, Miss Altamen. I assure you, your assistance will not be forgotten."

The prosecutor stood, but he didn't leave her right away. "May I take your hands?"

Shagat held both of them out. She was still covered in dirt, but he didn't seem to mind. He spoke in a language foreign to her ears, eyes closed. Was he praying for her?

Whatever he said, it was a long prayer. "Your sins in this life are many. I won't be surprised if one life isn't enough to balance your karma. Hell may be in your future.

"But hell is not the end, Miss Altamen. For punishment is temporary. Your soul is eternal. I prayed in the next life, you'll be given a better chance.

"Goodbye, Miss Altamen."

And so he left her, with her shoulders shaking and hands clasped together.

No one had ever asked for her permission before touching her. Not even the kindest of clients. And Borginia had their priests, but they didn't visit her type. All they did was insult her.

She fell to her knees, waiting for a new life to begin.

* * *

 **A/N's: I'm not DGS. I think readers always deserve to know the killer's motive. That said, thinking of one (or more specifically, how to tie it all together) was a little harder than I suspected. But I hope you enjoyed the read anyway. Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews, and naturally, to the anonymous OP for inspiring my story. Hope you enjoyed your fill as much as I did filling it.**

 **Happy New Year's, everyone!**


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